Dark Curse (Darkhaven Saga #5) - Danielle Rose Page 0,48
not talking about you,” Will says.
“But I’m a hybrid. I am both witch and vampire, and now I am more powerful than both.”
“But I was not meant to be that way,” Will explains. “I never wanted that life. That’s all I’m saying.”
“And you think I wanted this life? You think I wanted rogues to attack my coven that night?” I ask, offended. I pull away from him, yanking my hand free of his. His skin is hot, almost scalding.
I miss his cool caress, his confident reassurances. Over the weeks, I came to depend on Will. His visits always held promise of something more. There is a world beyond these walls, beyond the forest of Darkhaven, and Will continuously coming and going meant I might one day escape this place too.
Will shakes his head. “Of course not. No one would wish for such a heinous act. But since then, you have transitioned. You have acclimated. You thrive in this world. Ever since that night, you have welcomed the darkness into your soul. You became one with it. You are meant for this world. You want it the way I want the light.”
“Does that make me a monster?” I ask.
Will smiles. “We’re all monsters in some way, but you are no more a monster than anyone else.”
Will and I sit in silence, stealing glances when we think the other isn’t looking, and even though he never says it aloud, I know this is the last time I will see him. Tomorrow night, when I wake, he will be gone. He will slip away when the sun is high in the sky, and he will run to the ends of the earth in search of something more.
Will yearns for something that calls to him the way the moon speaks to me. He will run from the shadows, and he will find his recluse the way I have found this manor.
Born from nightmares and powered by darkness, Will has emerged from these muddled depths, and when I look at him, I see nothing but promise. He is a shining example of how wonderful, how life-changing, and how utterly powerful magic can truly be.
Chapter Eight
First, I feel the heat.
It is blazing, stifling, like fire scorching my skin. Even in my dream, I begin to sweat. The real world affects so much, forcing itself into the astral plane as a stark warning. It is not subtle, and still, I miss all the signs.
I am standing on a beach, basking in the sunlight. This alone should tell me I am not awake, for the sun is never kind to creatures of the night.
The water before me is clear and crystal blue at the same time. It looks refreshing and rejuvenating, like it truly can wash away my worries, my fears. It lies to me, promising to soak my pain, replacing agony with peace. It taunts me with visions of everlasting life. Even though I know this place is a lie, I do not leave. I do not want to be cast back into the darkness that awaits me.
As I walk closer, approaching the water’s edge, I notice little fish swimming in the shallows. Every time they try to free themselves by swimming into the murky distant depths, the waves push them back to shore. They continue their pursuit, never giving up even when the odds are so greatly stacked against them. They do not seem to know they will never find freedom. They are forever condemned to live out their lives in this place, knowing the world beyond them is vast and open, but they lack the ability to reach it.
When I dip my toes into the water, these tiny fish swim closer to me, fluttering around my toes before disappearing as I take another step. They are cursed to live within the shallows without the strength or protection needed to survive here. At any point, I may accidentally crush them. Has life always been this cruel? Or am I only noticing it now?
I look down. The water is at my ankles now. It is cool and refreshing, but the heat is still overpowering. It is hard to breathe and even harder to swipe the sweat at my crown. My muscles are weak, stiff.
When I do relieve myself, my hand is coated with my sweat, but I miss some. It dribbles down my cheek. I shiver, feeling every moment it drips down my skin, and I hear the exact second it splashes into the water. The tiny